


Ceremonials

by Melbell-lings (Melee)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cheating, F/M, Forced Marriage, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melee/pseuds/Melbell-lings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are obligations Ivan has, duties to his people, responsibilities he must burden that have left him hopeless and hollow and waiting, always waiting, for something to shine in his life.</p><p>He wants to forget about what’s proper and what a king should do and wants to think that more than just the nights he spends with Matthew.</p><p>(Royal AU: Ivan is forced to marry Natalya, then meets Matthew)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ceremonials

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sara Generis (kanadka)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanadka/gifts).



If you were to ask Ivan, he would say it all started that first night when Matthew leaned in. He stopped just before their lips met and pulled back to meet Ivan’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

Ivan’s touched, of course, but now isn’t the time to think about any implications their innocent little affair might have.

“I’m sure.”

They kiss, again and again in the moonlight, and Matthew wants to go to a spare room, but Ivan sends his guards away and they tumble onto his sheets. Ivan paints the image of Matthew dazed and lying on his furs into his head, his only comfort for the cold, lonely nights ahead.

Little do they know that Matthew will not be leaving the next day, or the next, or the next, and that their tryst will be the catalyst that tears their lives wide open.

~~~

If you were to ask Natalya, she’d say it started when the two lords came to petition. They’re both trouble, to be sure, but in different ways.

Alfred marches in with full ceremony, eyes on the throne and devious. Of course he makes the cursory introductions, flips his hand, bows with a flourish.

Matthew slips in behind him without any pomp, and he’s practically unnoticed next to Alfred, whose promises of riches and progress practically shimmer in the air.

For anyone who did notice, they saw golden, waxen locks and mystifying purple eyes, hidden behind lowered lashes. If anyone really paid attention, they would see those eyes flicking back and forth, sizing up and calculating. If anyone really thought about it, they would realize who the biggest threat in the room was.

But Ivan did not notice, the danger to his position as king or the coy young beauty. All he was focused on was the growing headache Alfred’s rambling was giving him.

“I will give you my decision tomorrow,” he snaps. He dismisses the court and seeks refuge where he always does, a private glass house buried in the endless snow.

He doesn’t realize he is being followed, but that’s neither here nor there.

~~~

He does realize, though, after a pot of tea and pleasant warmth have cooled his head. He’s passing through the sunflowers, big and tall (like him), when he finally notices another. Dressed in foreign finery, the other man extends a hand to the yellow petals and gently bends the head to him. He presses his nose in the black seeds, and that’s when Ivan observes his hair is the same brushed gold as the foliage.

Suddenly, the other man stiffens, turns, sees Ivan. He is not troubled to be caught in what is considered part of the king’s private quarters.

Instead, he states, “These don’t have a scent.”

“No, they do not,” Ivan replies in the same matter-of-fact tone.

“A pity.” He lets the flower go. “They’re so beautiful; I expected a perfume just as lovely.”

Ivan says nothing this time, just watching this stranger as he watches the flowers.

“Ah,” the stranger says and smiles and Ivan’s heart flutters. “If you’re returning to the castle, could you show me the way?”

~~~

“I’ll need more time for a decision of this magnitude. Perhaps tomorrow you will have my response.”

Alfred actually pouts, and Ivan is disgusted a noble would show such behaviour. Nevertheless, he hides this and sends Alfred to tour the grounds, minus his entourage.

And Ivan retreats to his glass house.

~~~

He keeps his eye on the door, but is still surprised, pleasantly so, when he looks up one time and sees the stranger surveying his flowers again.

“Would you like some tea?” he calls from the elevated level.

The other man blinks owlishly. Then he grins. “Love some.”

~~~

During their tea time, Ivan puts a name to this foreigner (Matthew) and discovers his home (a vast territory above the kingdom Alfred rules).

“So what brings you to my court?”

Matthew places his spoon on the saucer, handle pointed the same way as the cup’s. Matthew took his black tea black (Ivan was delighted to discover), but played with the fine silverware. Now his hands are occupied with the cup, and he answers Ivan’s question before testing the temperature of the liquid. “Oh, same thing as Alfred. Though different too, I suppose.”

Ivan frowns. “What?”

Matthew returns his cup. “I am also vying for that territory. Alfred has a better claim to it, but I thought I mind as while try to turn the king’s mind.” He glances up from under those thick lashes and grins as though implicating Ivan in his conspiracy.

Ivan lets his tea sit, become cold. “I must profess my confusion. I believed you came in with his party?”

Matthew laughs, and as pretty as it is, it’s empty. “Of course you did. With all that pageantry, I’d be astonished if you could take in anything else.” He smiles, but it’s filled with self-detriment and not at all like the first one amid the sunflowers. “We’re both regents. And siblings, for whatever that’s worth nowadays.”

Panic shoots up Ivan’s spine as he realizes he’s drinking with poison. He cuts their meeting shorter than originally intended, and makes sure Matthew gets back to the main part of the castle and stays there.

~~~

Of course, Ivan cannot shake the image of hate spoiling Matthew’s lovely face and tells Alfred he needs another day to decide.

Alfred huffs. Ivan is sure to send him many delicacies famous in this region and goes looking for Matthew.

~~~

“Did I scare you away?” Ivan finally finds Matthew hidden away with all the books in the library like he belongs there, filled away and forgotten on some shelf.

“A bit.” Ivan leans on a bookcase and assesses Matthew. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

Matthew scrambles to catch the book he almost drops. Ivan covers his laugh just before Matthew peers up. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you are beautiful and want something from me. Why else?”

“That’s horrible!” Matthew stops, coughs, and looks to the side. “Maybe because I just want _you_.”

Ivan’s heart’s acting up again, and he needs to blame it on something. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

~~~

They stroll along the west wing, where the many windows let sunlight fill the room. Ivan likes the sun, warm on his cheek, hates the snows he’s seen since childhood, and voices these thoughts.

“Does it always snow?” Matthew asks. They stop to gaze out at the scenery, smooth white broken only by trees and those glass houses, way off in the distance.

“Up here, yes. We have green buildings, like the one you always seem to find your way into, where we grow things. There is always sun up here, and snow. We melt that to grow our food.”

“That’s kind of sad.” Matthew is close to the glass. His breath clouds it. “The sun is so close, but too far to feel. A lost connection.”

“Yes,” Ivan agrees, and all is silent for a moment. “However... Every seven years, the sun comes a little closer. The snows all melt away, and tiny flowers come up. No one wants to go to work, and even I am exempted from my duties to play in the overflowing rivers with the others. It’s a very happy time.” When he opens his eyes, Matthew is staring at him with a kind of intensity that warms Ivan’s insides like a good pot of tea. Caught, his glance shifts away and he mutters, “I can’t.”

~~~

“You should.”

They’re standing outside the corridor where Ivan knows Alfred, and therefore Matthew, have been housed. Ivan’s trembling at what he wants, at what he wants to say, and he hopes Matthew doesn’t notice his nervousness. His desperateness.

“Your majesty-”

“Ivan,” Ivan interrupts.

“-I-Ivan... I cannot do this to you. The rumours already swirling about your marriage-”

“I could not care less,” and in that moment, Ivan really couldn’t. He was already focused on Matthew’s lips and leans in, but Matthew easily breaks the spell. “What would your sister say?”

~~~

If you were to ask Katya, she would say it started when she was ten, and Ivan was seven, Natalya five, and Natalya somehow manages to push Ivan down.

She stands over top of him, crosses her arms. “You’re marrying me.”

“N-No, Natalya! I don’t want to play this!” Ivan always was scared of the intensity his little sister brought to their games. Really, Katya just thinks Ivan’s a big baby.

(This was before Ivan grew to tower over his sisters, before war took any bit of baby and left it on the battleground with so many corpses of his countrymen.)

Natalya huffs. “Why not? We’re going to get married anyway. We should practice!” At this, Ivan breaks into full sobs and Katya feels the need to intervene.

“Ivan will not be married for a few more years at least. When he does, it will be to me.”

Natalya spins, and it is the deadly glare that forces all this into Katya’s memory.

~~~

When Katya turns fourteen, she dedicates herself to her faith. In a convent, she’s safe from whatever horrors their forced marriage would make, moreover from Natalya and all her ambition.

~~~

When Ivan’s fifteen and Natalya’s thirteen, he’s saved from a royal union by revolts in the south. Ivan stiffly kisses his bride-to-be on the cheek before riding off. Katya thinks they should just send Natalya down to deal with the rebels. Judging by her furious countenance, she’d rip them all to shreds.

~~~

War keeps Ivan away for four more years. It makes him hard: Hard muscles, hard eyes, hard mouth. Katya misses the soft, shy smiles that sneaked out whenever Ivan saw something he liked. She hates the way he stares at nothing, minutes stretching out, until something jolts him back to the present. She misses her brother, afraid of this man resolute to his fate.

It was decided by the king that a royal marriage would unite the people in the hard-fought for peace. Invitations are rushed, decorations are set, and Ivan and Natalya marry during the Summer. Natalya is merry and radiant, pleased at finally getting what she’s wanted for so long. Ivan smiles not once.

That same Summer, the king dies. On his death bed, he reminds the young couple of their duty to the realm. Katya and even Natalya are by his side when he passes, but Ivan stays back. These are his last moments before the heavy ring is placed on his finger. He spends them hiding his tears from his sisters.

~~~

It’s six years later, and no prince in the bassinet reveals what Katya has always known would happen. Natalya’s happiness faded away soon after the wedding, when it became apparent that she would still spend her nights alone.

It’s become a problem that must have a solution, and Katya resolves to visit the palace again after the envoys from the kingdoms across the ocean have left.

~~~

“I never wanted this,” Ivan whispers to Matthew later that night. He had left abruptly, and the other found him again in the glass house of flowers.

“We never do. I don’t want whichever lady my king picks out for me. I don’t want to be ignored by my father and king, constantly striving for his attention. I don’t want to do what I must to convince Alfred, my enemy, my brother, in any way possible.” Matthew’s hand is clutching the front of his shirt, and at that moment, Ivan wants nothing more than to smooth out the fabric, smooth out the worry on Matthew’s face.

“So, maybe we should do whatever we desire, whenever we can get away with it.” Matthew half laughs, half sobs. “But there’s no such thing as a small action. Something small, something innocent, it can ripple and get bigger and bigger, and before you know it, there’s a war, and you have to call the winner your friend, you _must_ , because friends are always better to have than enemies. And then you’re closer than friends, you’re brothers, and then you’re closer than that, and you think it’s enough, to give a little in order to keep yourself safe. Apparently it’s not though, because the man who calls himself your brother tries to buy out your territory _right under your nose_ , and you can’t say anything because it’s so non-confrontational, and your king, your _father_ , won’t listen when you say that this is just the beginning, that it will cause ripples until he has all of me–” Matthew stops with a sob, panting, and Ivan spends the rest of the night listening as Matthew yells out everything for only Ivan and the flowers to hear.

~~~

Nobody can ask Matthew when it all began, not anymore, because Matthew is gone, gone, never to return.

~~~

“You’ll have my answer tomorrow.”

Alfred just raises an eyebrow and finds something to amuse himself.

~~~

“I didn’t scare you away this time.” Ivan’s relieved to see Matthew’s eyes aren’t as swollen as last night.

“I think I’ve become rather used to you by now.” Matthew won’t meet his gaze. Ivan is afraid a touch won’t seem as comforting coming from him.

“I apologize for yesterday–”

“Hush.” It comes out like an order, and Matthew snaps his jaw shut. Ivan just sighs at his crudeness.

“Matthew,” he says softly. Matthew’s eyes wander up to him and Ivan decides to be brave. He places a hand on his neck, thumb sweeping his jaw. “Oh, Matthew.” _If you only knew._

It’s like Matthew can hear all he doesn’t say. He parts his lips and leans in, and Ivan feels _so right_ when he says “I’m sure.”

~~~

Ivan turns a corner and can’t retreat before Natalya is grabbing his arm. Before, such an action would have Ivan trembling and turning into a brawling mass. Now, though, he braces himself and accepts it all.

“My lord,” she pouts and tugs. Ivan stays poker-faced until she lets go and folds her arms. “I haven’t had you in my bedroom chamber as of late.”

It’s dripping with false politeness and pretense, because Ivan hasn’t been to her bed, not ever. “My apologies. These visiting kings have kept me busy.” That, at least, wasn’t a complete lie.

“I’ve seen.” Ivan’s heart stops a bit, but Natalya continues. “He’s quite rambunctious, isn’t he?”

Of course she’s speaking of Alfred, and Ivan smothers his smirk. “He is.”

“You should give them a decision soon, my lord.” Natalya glances back at her ladies when Ivan begins inching away. “A storm is coming, and they can’t leave in that.”

~~~

“Tomorrow,” Matthew murmurs lazily against Ivan’s naked shoulder.

~~~

“Tomorrow,” Ivan tells Alfred.

~~~

The next day brings a blizzard that suffocates the earth, immobilizing everything. Ivan reassures Matthew he can’t control the weather. Matthew just beams and kisses him in a back part of the library.

~~~

It’s imperative that no soul discovers them. While no one thinks twice of a king having a lover, they would do more than just gossip if discovered their king is bedding another regent before the queen births a successor.

(They place blame, instead, on their crazy queen and rumours swirl about her. Ivan feels guilty, but he can’t bring himself to take the blame).

There are obligations Ivan has, duties to his people, responsibilities he must burden that have left him hopeless and hollow and waiting, always waiting, for something to shine in his life.

It’s not fair, he knows, to place so much hope on Matthew. He has his own responsibilities. They both do.

But Matthew’s smiles are golden and his touches are fire and Ivan feels like Summer is closer when Matthew presses against him.

Hope is the only thing he’s freely allowed now, and he’ll take it for all it’s worth.

~~~

All fantasies dash when he goes to delay Alfred another day.

Alfred sighs and quirks an eyebrow towards his brother talking at the other end of the hall. “How about I give you him in addition to the money and I can be on my merry way?”

Alfred’s diplomats do a poor job smothering their laughter. Ivan smolders and wants to strike Alfred for _everything_ he’s done. He wants to forget about what’s proper and what a king should do and wants to think that more than just the nights he spends with Matthew.

~~~

“They know,” Matthew whispers one night in his room, and Ivan kisses him, desperate to make them both forget.

~~~

Because Ivan needs him, like he never would have thought before. Because Ivan can go through the pretext of his day knowing there is an escape at the end of it, shroud in smooth satins and snug furs and warm from candlelight.

Because when Matthew slides in it’s so overwhelming and Ivan feels dizzy and Matthew cups his cheeks and whispers promises on his lips until Ivan’s breathing settles and he meets his thrusts and Ivan wishes he could have this forever.

~~~

Summer is coming, soon. The snows are already fading.

Natalya catches him looking out the window at the fading snow and says, “Good. Now the roads will clear, and they can be on their way.”

Ivan ignores her. He’s never hated Summer before, and he doesn’t want to start now.

~~~

“Ivan-” Matthew starts and stops the kiss with a finger on lips, so Ivan just buries his head in the crux between shoulder and neck.

“Call me Vanya.”

“A-alright. _Vanya_ ,” Ivan sucks in his breath at that and puts his arms around Matthew, too. The gesture is incredibly possessive, and Ivan knows anyone touring the western grounds can see them through the windows.

He wants so much of what he can’t have, and the king’s reduced himself to begging to get it. “Please do not speak. They can take you away from me, and me from you, but don’t let them take this moment.”

It’s like they’re trying to chase off all the noise of departure with their silence.

(Ivan tells Matthew, later, that he sold the territories to Alfred. Matthew agrees it was better than being called a whore. Ivan shushes him and whispers, “You’re so much more than what anyone sees.”)

~~~

It ends up being the last thing Ivan says to Matthew. Barely into the afternoon, Alfred leaves with far less theatrics he had when arriving the month earlier.

Ivan performs the chores of a king perfectly, seeing Alfred out. Matthew is huddled in one of the caravans because it was so hard to leave Ivan once, they don’t need to do it again in front of all these people.

(When the party is gone, Ivan notices, rather bemusedly, a crocus curling up from a horse print in the mud.)

 (Ivan doesn’t allow himself to think of him again, only letting his smile linger on his eye lids right before sleep. This leaves him with a level mind, so decades later, when he decides his son is settled enough to earn the crown completely, he sails across the ocean with the pretext of a diplomatic visit.

He meets Matthew again, hair longer and a full beard he jokes makes him look younger. A touch on the wrist is all it takes for an absolute happiness to blossom in Ivan again.

He is introduced to all of Matthew’s children, and his wife who Matthew clearly dotes upon. She isn’t perturbed at meeting him at all. Matthew explains later, behind closed doors, that their youngest child isn’t his; And that he’d be a damned liar if he disapproved.

He tours Matthew’s kingdom, little by little. He loves the excitement Matthew has towards everything. He loves the way Matthew blushes when he shows him a cultivated field and says they’ll come back in the fall.

His head isn’t swimming, abnormally clear when he lies down to bed that night. Everything feels balanced and perfect and right when Matthew tucks under the covers and holds his hand and whispers what he didn’t say their last night.

He whispers _I love you_ and Ivan curls next to his warmth and sleeps in peace.)


End file.
